The Desperate Plight of Our Overtaxed Corporations or, How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live
November 14, 2001
by Anonymous

Even though I may seem lifelike, I�m actually a corporation, which means I�m turning handsprings over the exuberant largesse shown by my employees in the House of Representatives and the White House as they ramrod this goofy multi-billion dollar corporate kickback scam called, with unrestrained irony, "The Economic Security and Recovery Act" through the legislative process.

Now if only the Democratically controlled Senate signs on. Not that that�s been in question of late, as the dashing Mr. Daschle positions his party to out-Republican its Republican colleagues in his zeal to demonstrate an appropriate level of patriotism � starting (and apparently ending) with massive corporate giveaways and further abrogation of civil liberties. But still, there�s some token resistance from the back benches. I mean, how much money do we have to slip these weasels every election cycle before they act right?

But first, patient reader, you�re entitled to some background. In the mid-�90s, I had been running my own consulting practice and getting absolutely reamed each April � not to mention the punitive quarterly estimates for both feds and state. I had been operating as a sole proprietorship, which is code for "let�s give the feds all our money every year." I had respectable annual revenue, but by the time they were done with me, I was running a de facto nonprofit.

One day I was talking about my tax situation with a friend who�s in a similar field. It turned out that he and I had grossed roughly the same the previous year, we had most of the same write-offs, yet he had paid many thousands of dollars less and his quarterly payments were negligible. The only significant difference: He had incorporated.

I�ve always said if you�re going to live in the world champion of unbridled, freebooter, rapacious radical capitalism, you�re a damn fool if you act any other way. You can either roll your eyes and bemoan the corporatization of America, or you can take advantage of it while you�re here, then immigrate to a civilized country when you�ve amassed sufficient funds. Meanwhile, what more effective way to demonstrate your disgust for administrations past and present than to deny them operating capital? (To see your tax dollars at work obliterating what�s left of Afghanistan, go here.(1)

So in 1995, I took my own advice and mutated into an S-Corp. I�m now its CEO, president, chairman, office manager, washroom attendant and purchasing agent. I�m also its sole employee.

I no longer remember what the "S" stands for, but it might as well be "small." There�s an alphabet soup of different kinds of corporations: C-Corps, LLCs and so forth. According to my accountant, Saint Brad of the Perpetual Deduction, S-Corp status seemed right for me. And how.

It cost me about $400 to incorporate. The first year I filed as an S-Corp, I grossed about $10,000 more than I had the prior year and paid about $15,000 less in state and federal taxes for a net gain of $25,000. Which is one hell of a return on a $400 investment. And it�s been rolling right along in similar fashion each successive year, partially because of the corporate structure itself and partially because the corporation can write off all kinds of wonderful stuff that individuals would do time for.

Plus, I no longer have to take any personal responsibility whatsoever for my business practices. If I screw up and a client sues me for nonperformance or malpractice, big deal. The corporation simply goes out of business and reforms the next week with a new name, new letterhead and the same old deadbeat employee. Kind of like Johns-Manville and the asbestos settlement, although on a considerably smaller scale.

But many of my employees in Congress point to the hardships faced by our steadfast corporations. They�re concerned that corporate taxes are too onerous in these trying times and, frankly, I just know I�d feel considerably more patriotic blowing my tax savings by kicking back on Maui and nursing a tax-deductible drink with some silly ass little umbrella in it.

Of course, the corporate tax bite is already considerably smaller, percentage-wise, than the burden that falls on the kid who asks me if I�d like fries with my meal. But listen, I�m regarded by at least one Congressman as a "job creation machine," hilarious blowhard apologist fool that he is, so I�m not going to worry overmuch about the taxation travails of the peasant class. Particularly when I could be spending my time playing golf on the public�s nickel.

So let�s talk a bit about some of the stuff S-Corps can write off today � even before the munificent Economic Security and Recovery Act slithers its way toward the Oval Office. Mind you, this is a tiny, tiny fraction of what I could get away with if I were one of the big C-Corp guys, but still it�s transcendently cool and somewhat illustrative of the amazing feats of legal tax avoidance enabled by corporate campaign contributions.

Generally speaking, unless you�re somebody like Robert Vesco, cheating doesn�t pay nearly this well. Personally, I wouldn�t dream of cheating. Why bother when all this crazy stuff is perfectly legal. In fact, write-offs are what keep corporate America humming.

Sales meetings in Barbados? Full write-offs. Christmas parties and office picnics? Full write-offs. A new Lexus for the VP of marketing? Full write-off. Outcall service for the poor, harried VP of sales? Only a partial write-off, but you can always fiddle the books and call it something like, oh, a corporate stress reduction seminar, at which point sexual dalliance, too, becomes a full write-off.

Outcalls notwithstanding, the only people really getting screwed here are, shockingly, America�s wage earners. Since the federal budget is a relatively fixed number, somebody has to pick up the slack. And that would be the guy back at the burger place, or maybe the cop or the firefighter, since it�s sure as hell not going to be anyone who can afford a decent accountant.

The corporate tax code is so generously whimsical that the only way I can explain it is, every time I uncover yet another really juicy perk that can�t possibly be accounted for by common sense or business necessity, I just envision one of my Congressional employees skulking out of a room at the Watergate complex, pockets stuffed with fifties and hundreds, followed a few moments later by a couple of Gucci Gulch bag men.

So when I see Congress demonstrating its patriotic fervor by conspiring to reward our very finest American corporate welfare queens with another $115 billion in tax breaks � some retroactive all the way back to 1986 � you can appreciate that I�m of somewhat divided loyalties. The venal bastard in me says "bring it on," while the more noble side says "oh, but what of the lofty goals and grand aspirations of America, guiding light of the free world, home of decency and goodness and equal opportunity for rich white guys, no matter how criminally incompetent they may be."

Then I call Saint Brad the accountant and ask how much I�m going to skate on this year, make travel plans for yet another burdensome board meeting somewhere near Barcelona, and somehow all my moral ambivalence about war profiteering and the class struggle simply evaporates like the morning dew on yet another gloriously sunny American tax-free day.

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For obvious reasons, the author has absolutely no interest whatsoever in revealing his identity, so don�t ask. But you might start pestering your representatives � both elected and selected � as to why, as an individual and American citizen, you don�t get to do all this outrageous stuff. I mean, if work�s as damn noble as these pontificating blowhards in government and industry tell us, how come workers are always the first ones getting screwed? Seems like a fair question, although I think we all know the answer.

(1) Courtesy of the Manchester Guardian Online via the exceptionally fine Blowback website ).

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